


Without Malice

by sarahyyy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, April Fools' Day, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1399396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He opens his mouth to apologise (not for asking Grantaire out, never for asking Grantaire out, but for being so abrupt, he really should have given Grantaire some warning) but before he can manage the words, Grantaire punches him in the face.</p><p>(Or, the one where Enjolras needs to learn how to read the calendar.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Malice

**Author's Note:**

> So a week back, I saw [this post](http://lucithor.tumblr.com/post/80213239853) and said that I was going to write it and post it on April Fools', and then proceeded to forget about it until [kiyala](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala) tweeted me. *cough*

For a few long seconds, Grantaire doesn’t say anything. 

He had been laughing only moments ago, head thrown back and eyes crinkled, looking so _happy_ that Enjolras really couldn’t help blurting it out. He wishes he hadn’t said anything now, though, because the look of happiness is gone from Grantaire’s eyes, and he looks— He looks _furious_ , and God, Enjolras must have read things so wrongly. 

He opens his mouth to apologise (not for asking Grantaire out, never for asking Grantaire out, but for being so abrupt, he really should have given Grantaire some warning) but before he can manage the words, Grantaire punches him in the face.

“Fuck you, Apollo,” Grantaire hisses, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. His hands are trembling slightly, and Enjolras doesn’t know what the fuck just happened. “Fuck you.”

—

He ends up with his head in Combeferre’s lap, ice pack against his jaw. 

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Combeferre asks gently, carding his fingers through Enjolras’ hair. When Enjolras doesn’t reply, he adds, “Courfeyrac is coming home anytime soon.”

Which means that if he doesn’t want to talk about it, he should probably get moving soon. But Combeferre is warm and comfortable, and this is pretty much the worst day of his life, and he really doesn’t want to have to be alone right now. Being alone gives him a lot of time to think about what happened, and he doesn’t want to think about it, because the pain of Grantaire’s rejection hurts more than the punch to his face. 

“I asked Grantaire out,” he ends up telling Combeferre. “He punched me in the face.”

“You asked Grantaire out,” Combeferre repeats, slightly disbelieving, blinking down at Enjolras. “Today.”

“That’s what I just said,” Enjolras snaps. 

Combeferre frowns.

“I’m sorry, I just—” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I thought he _liked_ me. That’s what everyone’s been telling me, that he wouldn’t mind if I asked him out, and okay, maybe I was a little abrupt with it, but he was just there, and he was laughing and it was wonderful, and the words just came out even before I could think about it. I just— I _really_ like him.”

“Enjolras,” Combeferre says, and he sounds amused now, the slightly worried look he’s had on his face since Enjolras came to his apartment gone from his face, “what’s the date today?”

Enjolras frowns. “I don’t know,” he says, because it is possible that he hasn’t been sleeping well the past week because he’s been too caught up in trying to work out a failsafe plan to ask Grantaire out. “End of March?”

“April,” Combeferre corrects. He gives Enjolras a loaded look, and Enjolras _knows_ Combeferre is trying to tell him something, but he doesn’t know what, and that is ridiculously frustrating. “The first, to be exact,” Combeferre adds.

Enjolras looks up at him blankly. 

Combeferre sighs. “Most people know it as April Fools'?” he says. “The day where you play practical jokes on other people for a laugh?”

Enjolras stares at Combeferre in horror. “ _No._ ”

Combeferre smiles sympathetically. “Yes.”

This cannot be what Combeferre thinks it is. Grantaire cannot possibly think that Enjolras was trying to play a joke on him by asking him out. He would _never_ , Grantaire must know that. 

He thinks back of the wary look Grantaire had given him when he asked if Grantaire wanted to go on a walk with him to the park, of the way Grantaire’s eyebrows had drawn together when Enjolras had paid for his coffee and asked him about his latest art commission, of the angry look in Grantaire’s eyes when he’d finally blurted the words _do you want to go out with me sometime?_ to Grantaire. 

Oh. 

_Oh._

“Oh, God,” he says faintly. 

Grantaire must think he’s a horrible person. 

“His apartment is ten minutes away,” Combeferre reminds him, and smiles when Enjolras darts out of his apartment.

—

In the ten minutes it takes for Enjolras to walk to Grantaire’s apartment, he’s come up with a brilliant speech on how sorry he is for his horrible timing and how sincere he actually was when he asked Grantaire to go out with him, but when Grantaire wrenches the door open with a scowl on his face, the words die in his throat. 

“What do you want, Apollo?” Grantaire asks, scowl deepening. “I’m not going to apologise for punching you in the face, so if that’s what you’re here for, you can turn back and go right now.”

Enjolras draws back, appalled. “I’m not here to— I _wouldn’t_. I deserved it.” 

Grantaire doesn’t say anything, though he does look slightly less angry, so Enjolras figures that he’s going on the right track here. 

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras continues. “I didn’t—”

“Right,” Grantaire interrupts. “You’re apologising for playing a horrible joke, I accept your apology, everything is fine, can you go now?”

Enjolras’ face falls. “That’s not just what I—”

“I didn’t think that you could be so cruel,” Grantaire says softly. “I know that my crush on you has reached all kinds of levels of patheticness, and it’s probably a little creepy for you, and I’m sorry for that, but you can’t just make a joke out of it.” 

Grantaire’s voice cracks slightly in the middle and God, Enjolras is a horrible person, he needs to fix it now, how does he fix this?

“That’s not what I was trying to do,” Enjolras says, trying to sound calm and compose, but probably missing the mark by about three thousand miles because he can feel the urge to shake Grantaire until he _gets it_ , and God, he must be looking manic right now, Grantaire probably thinks he’s crazy, how the hell is he going to get Grantaire to agree to go out with him now? 

“Will you go out with me sometime?” he blurts out, again.

Grantaire stares at him, quiet, but he doesn’t look like he’s about to punch Enjolras in the face again, just very confused. “I thought we’ve established that rubbing my feelings for you in my face wasn’t funny.”

“I’m not!” Enjolras cries. “I’m not rubbing your feelings for me in your face, I’m rubbing _my_ feelings for _you_ in your face.” He cringes at the line. “Can we go back? Pretend I never said anything? Can I do this all over again?”

“This is a conversation, Enjolras,” Grantaire says. “You can’t just rewind and pretend that the bad parts didn’t happen.”

“Can you please just humour me and hear me out?” Enjolras asks.

Grantaire sighs. “Okay, let’s hear it, what would you have said differently?”

“I really like you,” Enjolras says in a rush, because the faster he gets all the words in his head out, the less likely it will be for him to screw them up. “I really, _really_ like you, and I _really_ want to take you out on a date, so can we pretend that I didn’t overthink the whole asking-you-out thing for an entire week and just did it back in the Musain when the thought came to me that I really liked it when you smiled at me instead of waiting till April Fools' Day to do it?”

Grantaire stares at him, jaw slack. “What.”

“I didn’t even realise it was April Fools',” Enjolras tells him.

Grantaire cracks a smile at that. “Combeferre?”

“Combeferre,” Enjolras confirms, and he can’t stop himself from smiling too, because he’s suddenly a lot less afraid of Grantaire saying _no_ , and it’s got a lot to do with the soft look in Grantaire’s eyes, and the gentle curve of his lips. 

“So…” Grantaire says. “I’m a bit thrown by everything. I’m not entirely sure I know what’s happening right now.”

“That’s alright,” Enjolras says, and he means it. “I can help with that. Question one, have we established that you now understand that I am an idiot who needs to learn how to check the calendar once in awhile?”

Grantaire’s smile grows into a full-fledged grin, and he nods.

“Question two,” Enjolras continues, trying and failing to ignore the way his pulse quickens in anticipation, “have we established that you now understand that I like you?”

Grantaire nods again, still grinning.

“Question three, have we established that you now understand that I really want to take you out on a date?”

Grantaire nods.

“Question four,” Enjolras says, and then takes two steps closer to Grantaire, fits his hands over Grantaire’s hips, “will you let me take you out on that date? Today, preferably? Right now?”

“Yes,” Grantaire says, and then tilts his head up to meet Enjolras’ lips. “I’m not changing my relationship status on Facebook until tomorrow, though,” he says when they part. “No-one would believe me.”

Enjolras laughs. “We’ll change it together, at midnight,” he says, and his jaw still aches from Grantaire’s punch, and the excessive smiling isn’t helping, but it’s worth it for the look of quiet happiness in Grantaire’s eyes right now.

So completely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [here](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com) on tumblr, come say hi! :D


End file.
